


No Honor Among Thieves

by the_quiller



Category: Bleach
Genre: Multi, You Have Been Warned, buckle in for a wild ride, canon gets yeeted in the prologue, everything goes very badly for everyone, ichigo navigates delicate soul society politics with a sledgehammer, lots of worldbuilding ahoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:49:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25291924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_quiller/pseuds/the_quiller
Summary: Urahara hid the hogyoku in a specialized gigai designed to turn a Shinigami into a human – a gigai he gave Shiba Isshin in order to save the life of Kurosaki Masaki. Twenty years later, Kuchiki Rukia finds herself bereft of her powers and in need of a gigai. Like the trustworthy and philanthropic merchant that he most certainly is not, Urahara provides her with a perfectly standard issue one.So destiny stumbles a step sideways.
Comments: 23
Kudos: 53





	1. Because I could not stop for Death

_"...he kindly stopped for me." - Dickinson, 1890_

. . .

He caught her before she even made it past the spluttering streetlight on the corner. Arms crossed and shoulders squared, Kurosaki Ichigo almost looked imposing if not for the sheer absurdity of being cowed in any way by a boy barely one tenth of her age.

"Hey Rukia. Any reason you're sneaking out like a thief in the night?" he asked, raising one disapproving eyebrow.

So much for a clean exit.

"It's none of your business. Go back to sleep," she said.

He snorted, "What, so I can wake up in the morning to your shoddily drawn note? Because as far as goodbyes go, that one ranks pretty low on the politeness scale."

It took conscious effort to keep her back from stiffening and her hands from closing into fists. The lack of control over her own emotions, more than anything else, was proof that she had lingered in the living world for far too long. She had let Kurosaki Ichigo and his friends pull her into their pace, and shamefully forgot her place, her duties. With a calm she didn't feel, Rukia said, "It's easier this way. I've wasted too much time on you fools as it is."

She must not have projected as much composure as she hoped, because Ichigo's expression shifted into concern and he uncrossed his arms, his stance softening.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

His face told her he wouldn't believe her if she insisted everything was fine, so Rukia could only heave a resigned sigh and admitted, "My assignment to the living world wasn't supposed to last this long. I've been summoned back."

Just as expected, even though her current predicament was hardly his fault, a look of guilt immediately flashed across Ichigo's face. He opened his mouth, probably to apologize or offer help.

Rukia cut him off before he could. She rolled her eyes and scoffed, "Wipe that dumb look off your face. It's nothing serious. My commanding officer just worries too much."

There was a loaded pause as the glow of the streetlight above them flickered again between light and shadow. Then Ichigo took a step toward her, closing the distance so they were maybe only an arm's length apart. Ichigo's gaze slid away towards the clinic where his family still slumbered, unaware, and then down the street they had walked together, dozens of times, toward his high school. Then his eyes locked back onto hers.

"You really can't stay to say a proper goodbye?"

"I cannot," she answered resolutely.

Ichigo let the last of the fight bleed away from his posture. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, suddenly looking a little bit foolish after chasing her outside in his sleeping clothes and house slippers.

"Well," he said, "Tatsuki and Inoue are gonna miss you. And you know Kon's gonna raise a shitstorm about it. So…don't be a stranger, okay?"

Rukia felt her lips twitch upward. She really shouldn't have let herself consort with so many human teenagers. Never mind get attached to them. It was patently unlikely she would ever be reassigned to this town again in their lifetime, and it wasn't like she could explain why she'd like to visit without confessing to multiple serious infractions that would subject her to dire disciplinary action. Even still, she couldn't seem to make her traitorous heart regret it. Instead, she let the smile bloom fully across her face.

"It's been fun," she said simply, taking a step back and drawing her blade. Maybe it was fitting that they parted here, on the same street where she had given him her powers all those months ago.

"More like a pain in the ass," he retorted, but the look in his eyes belied his words. He took a step back to give her space.

Rukia turned Sode no Shirayuki's hilt in the air like a key. A thin vertical line of light flared from the blade's tip and expanded outwards into the familiar doors of the Senkaimon. The soft ringing of a hell butterfly chimed soft and clear against the quiet night as it alighted on Rukia's shoulder.

She sheathed the blade and indulged in one last glance over her shoulder at the strangest boy she ever had the fortune of meeting - the harsh streetlight bouncing off his bright orange hair, a wry expression scrawled across a face that was painfully familiar even if it was painted in the wrong age and color, and a spirit force burning so brilliantly in his chest that it was almost like staring into the sun.

"Stay alive, Ichigo," she said, finally, "Don't you dare head over to this side before you're old and grey."

He waved at her dismissively and said, "Yeah, yeah. If you shinigami do your jobs properly, I won't have to."

And that was that. Rukia breathed out, the last gasp of air from the world of the living leaving her lips as she stepped over the threshhold, into the gate of the dead. She did not look back. She did not hesitate. Her feet carried her firmly and resolutely home as the Senkaimon slid closed behind her and then broke apart into particles of light that faded away into nothingness.

Ichigo stared at the empty night air for a few moments longer before slowly lowering his hand and shoving it into his flannel pockets. He breathed in once, held it for a moment, and then let it all out in an explosive sigh. That was that. His life would, more or less, go back to normal. Something he claimed he had wanted for months, but now that he was faced with the reality of it, Ichigo didn't know quite what to think. He hadn't expected it to happen so, well, abruptly.

But then, these kinds goodbyes were always abrupt, weren't they? At least he hadn't woken up to a crummy note.

He was still deep in thought as he shuffled across the street and let himself back into his family clinic, entirely missing the figure looming the the shadows just inside.

So he nearly jumped out of his skin when an infuriatingly jolly voice accosted him. "Sneaking out in the middle of the night to make clandestine calls to a paramour, how youthful!"

Ichigo choked on an unmanly yelp and instinctively punched the man in the face - half out of surprise, half out of instinct. His fist, however, was intimately familiar with the feeling of slamming against this particular sturdy nose. Ichigo recognized the sensation before he visually recognized his father's face.

"Shut up, goat face. It's not like that," said Ichigo. His heart rate was still hovering somewhere near where it had spiked through the ceiling.

Isshin removed his son's fist from his nose with a practiced sort of nonchalance and chuckled, "You wouldn't be wearing a face like someone just cancelled summer break if it wasn't."

"That's rich, coming from a face like yours," said Ichigo. He tugged his wrist free and resumed his shuffle back up the stairs to his room.

"Ichigo," his dad called out after him, "remember that goodbyes aren't forever. You'll meet again."

Ichigo froze halfway up the stairs. It was unnerving how often his dad managed say weirdly astute things despite having the entirely wrong idea about what was going on. Ichigo found himself turning to look back downstairs, and found Isshin gazing back expectantly, a strangely solemn expression on the man's face that Ichigo hadn't seen since that day in front of his mother's grave. The churning emotions in his gut had the words spilling out of his mouth before he could catch them.

He asked, "Did you ever wonder why Mom didn't come back to us as a ghost?"

"Never."

Ichigo was taken aback by how firmly and without hesitation his father had answered. His surprise must have showed, because Isshin continued, "Because she had faith. You'd never let anything happen to your little sisters. So Masaki had nothing to worry about."

Ichigo swallowed the lump that suddenly lodged itself in his throat. "Yeah. That makes sense."

His dad flashed him a cheesy thumbs up and said, "So stop worrying yourself and get to sleep. Or you won't stand a chance against my kick of love tomorrow morning!"

Refusing to dignify his dad's return to idiotic form with a response, Ichigo just shook his head and made it up the rest of the way up the stairs back to the privacy of his room. Rukia's poorly drawn parting note still rested on his desk, illuminated by the light spilling in through his window, and his sheets were still rumpled from when he had tossed them aside to follow her. He let himself fall back on top of them and laced his fingers behind his head to look up at his boring, everyday ceiling.

Tomorrow morning would just like any other tomorrow morning. Despite everything that had happened in the last few months, life went on.

That thought, Ichigo decided, was a comforting one.

Tomorrow, life would go on.

. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm starting up a multichaptered fic the first time in years. I'm older and wiser now, so I'm about five chapters ahead of what I'm posting. The outline has this fic being about fifteen chapters, though those chapters will be significantly longer than this taster prologue.
> 
> Buckle in for a wild ride, because canon has already been thrown out the window, and it's only going to diverge even more. Different fights, different alliances, and different character arcs are all on the table now. I hope you like action and worldbuilding and a metric ton of plot, because boy do I have fun things planned.
> 
> Welcome aboard and I hope you enjoy the ride.
> 
> PS - feel free to come hang out and talk Bleach on The Seireitei, our discord server - https://discord.gg/drgmaf8


	2. Do not go gentle into that good night

_“Old age should burn and rave at close of day;_  
_Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”_  
_– Thomas, 1951_

. . .

There was, Ukitake Jushiro mused to himself, a bittersweet joy in watching each new generation of shinigami come into their own.

He cradled a warm cup of tea in his hands and a warm sense of pride in his heart as he watched the two young shinigami spar across the training field. Though the summer heat had turned the rest of the Seireitei into a glorified oven, the Thirteenth Division was granted a refreshing reprieve today as gusts of crisp, cold wind rolled through the training grounds with each clash of icy spiritual pressure. The ground had been repainted in silver frost and shimmers of nascent snow drifted through the air.

Jushiro savored his tea and marveled at both the winter scenery and the skill of the two shinigami who had called it forth. The art of the blade was inherently lethal, but on occasion, Jushiro found that it could be beautiful too. Perhaps especially so for this match – a clash between two zanpakuto of such similar yet opposite nature. Beauty and power. Subtlety and force. A silk ribbon weaving through a dragon's claws. Poetic enough to use as inspiration for a tanka later, if he had the time.

For now, though, Jushiro turned his full attention back to the fight at hand.

Captain Hitsugaya pivoted on his heel and twirled Hyorinmaru around in a flashing arc. Too late to dodge, Rukia brought Sode no Shirayuki's blade up just in time to intercept, but the force of the blow knocked her off balance. Instead of stumbling, however, Rukia let the force of the blow carry her, turning her fall into sideways roll and gaining a few precious meters of distance. The kidou chant was on her lips before her feet even finished sliding across the frozen ground.

Blinding yellow light flashed into being and coalesced into bright chains that bound Hitsugaya in place. It startled a sharp exhale from his lips, the wisp of breath white against the frigid air.

Jushiro hid a small smile at his subordinate's skill behind his teacup. No one ever expected an unseated officer to cast such a high level spell so quickly and perfectly without the full incantation. It wouldn't hold a captain-class opponent down for long, but it would buy Rukia a few seconds. A few seconds could spell the difference between victory and defeat.

Rukia didn't waste a single one of them. Sode no Shirayuki's white ribbon swirled behind her, a delicate arc that belied the danger hidden in its wake, and a pool of silver light spread beneath their feet. Half a heartbeat later, a great pillar of ice pierced into the sky. The burst of glacial air tore violently across the training field with enough force to lift the long strands of Jushiro's hair even where he sat a hundred meters away. He carefully held his breath until it passed. He was in good shape today, but there was no need to strain his lungs any more than necessary.

Hitsugaya flash stepped back into view next to the pillar of ice as the light of Tsukishiro faded. He had broken the binding spell, but not quickly enough to escape unscathed. His left arm had been encased in frost up to the elbow.

The young captain seemed genuinely impressed as he gingerly flexed his wrist and let the ice crack and fall away. For anyone else, the injury would've warranted an overnight stay at the Fourth or risk losing fingers to frostbite. That had been one of several reasons why Jushiro had gone out of his way to invite the younger captain here in the first place. Rukia could no longer practice her most potent skills against her squad mates without inflicting irreparable injury.

Memories of the last time she had landed this particular technique were clearly still fresh in her mind, because Rukia immediately dropped her fighting stance and closed the distance, her hand bent into the beginning motions of a healing spell. Hitsugaya raised his own hand to forestall her, however, indicating that he had not suffered any significant harm.

Jushiro was too far to make out anything more than the soft murmurs of their conversation without raising his own spiritual pressure to sharpen his senses, but it was clear that the spar was over and the two were exchanging brief pointers. Hitsugaya then said something that Jushiro could only assume was very blunt praise, because Rukia became visibly flustered before bowing profusely, which in turn prompted a rare bark of laughter from the young captain.

Post-spar review complete, Hitsugaya deftly returned Hyorinmaru to its sheath, prompting Rukia to do the same with Sode no Shirayuki. Once her blade was sealed and sheathed, Rukia bowed once more in gratitude, and turned in Jushiro's direction to give him a bow as well. Jushiro gave her a proud smile and a small wave, then nodded to indicate that she was free to go. She straightened and nodded back at her captain in acknowledgment of his dismissal before disappearing in a smooth flash step to return to her usual duties.

Meanwhile, Hitsugaya casually brushed the last flakes of frost from his clothes and sedately walked over to Jushiro's side.

"Captain Hitsugaya," Jushiro greeted his fellow captain first despite his seniority as a gesture of respect. He motioned at the sitting cushion beside him, as well as the second teacup on the tray between them.

For a moment, Jushiro thought the young man might refuse, citing some other pressing duty, but to his surprise, Hitsugaya Toshiro obliged him, kneeling down on the cushion in seiza and holding the cup in both hands with a polite nod as Jushiro poured his tea. It was rare that the Captain of the Tenth bothered with social niceties, and Jushiro always felt flattered when the Hitsugaya respected him enough to go through the additional trouble.

"It was very kind of you to agree to this despite all your other obligations," Jushiro continued.

Hitsugaya merely inclined his head and, as he was wont to, skipped straight to the point, "Has she been working on bankai?"

"Yes, but more predominantly jinzen than actual materialization," said Jushiro.

"See if you can set aside some time for her to work on it in seclusion," Hitsugaya said bluntly, "It's not fully manifest yet, but I could almost see her zanpakuto spirit shadowing her moves."

 _That_ was news. Perhaps the shared element gave Hitsugaya a clearer sense of a fellow ice spirit's power. Jushiro felt his smile deepen. It seemed that he, too, had been underestimating his own subordinate. She never failed to exceed his expectations. He had been worried for a while, given how subdued she'd been for the greater part of the last decade, but something seemed to have sparked back to life in her heart ever since she returned from her rotation in the world of the living. Jushiro could see it in how she carried herself, how she swung her blade – her steps were surer, and her blade seemed to hold purpose once more.

It was the reason Jushiro finally decided to go through with something he had been considering for a long time.

"I plan to nominate her as my vice-captain at the next meeting," Jushiro confessed.

Hitsugaya arched a single white eyebrow in surprise.

"Why now?"

"If anything, it's long overdue," Jushiro said, not quite answering the question. While he would never disclose Kuchiki Byakuya's moratorium on his sister's promotion, rumors and speculation were bound to circulate when such a powerful shinigami languished as an unseated officer for so long. Doubly so in a division where the second seat had been so painfully, obviously vacant for decades.

"It's a captain's prerogative to appoint whoever they choose as their lieutenant," Hitsugaya said, furrowing his brow. He had evidently puzzled enough pieces together to dislike the picture they were forming.

Jushiro sighed and said, "Yes, but due to my condition, my lieutenant will likely be the one representing me at captain's meetings more often than not. It would be shortsighted of me to place Kuchiki in that role without addressing the obstacles she may face."

Shiba Kaien had once excelled in that role. As the head of a one of the Great Noble Houses and a prodigy in his own right, Kaien had been able to stand tall and speak his mind, even when faced with the most powerful captains in Soul Society. Rukia would not have that advantage. Quite the opposite, in fact. Jushiro knew he was asking a great deal, to place her squarely in the path of her brother's ire simply to perform her official duties.

Hitsugaya pressed his lips together in a tight frown. Then he nodded once, sharply.

"She's more than skilled enough. I'll support her nomination for vice-captain at the next meeting."

Jushiro felt the lingering tension lift from his shoulders. That made three captains total, not including himself, who had extended their support. Enough to grant Rukia a dependable buffer from the worst of the backlash. Jushiro had been fairly confident in his own assessment that, out of all the remaining captains, Hitsugaya Toshiro was the most likely to evaluate Rukia purely on her own merit and without political bias, but it was still a relief that his faith had been rewarded.

Gratitude was due where gratitude was owed.

"Thank you, Captain Hitsugaya," Jushiro said, "The favor will not be forgotten." He bowed his own head lower than strictly necessary to express his sincerity.

Hitsugaya's expression remained nonchalant, but the young captain reflexively tucked his hands into his sleeves. Jushiro had to fight down a damning chuckle. Toshiro had a tendency to do that whenever he felt embarrassed by praise or consideration.

"Thank you for the tea," Hitsugaya said, bowing his head as well, "I'd better get back to the Tenth." He added in a low mutter, more to himself than Jushiro, "Who knows what Matsumoto's gotten up to by now?"

"Would that we were all blessed by such vibrant subordinates," said Jushiro. Rukia would have a great deal to live up to. Jushiro had faith, however, that she would grow into her own. Watching that process and lending a helping hand where it was needed was the honor and privilege of old souls like himself.

"Ah, speaking of which!" Jushiro's countenance brightened as he rummaged through the sleeves of his captain's cloak. His fingers closed around the object he sought and he withdrew it with a flourish before offering to his junior. "Please, accept this as a token of gratitude."

"Wha-" Hitsugaya barely stopped himself from spluttering in indignation as his eyes fell upon the lollipop. He paused, however, at the pink and green watermelon wrapper, and finally heaved a very put-upon sigh before accepting the gift with forced solemnity. The young captain beat a very quick retreat after that, possibly to enjoy the candy in private, away from prying eyes. Or so Jushiro assumed. He couldn't imagine Captain Hitsugaya allowing anyone to catch him with a lollipop in his mouth.

Jushiro sat on the patio a little longer, enjoying the cool breeze and the rare sight of snow so out of season. There was a bittersweet joy in watching each new generation of shinigami come into their own. But there was a sweeter, softer joy in sheltering the quirks of youth just a little longer. Ukitake Jushiro would gladly do both for as long as he was able.

. . .

"Student ID?" asked Yuzu.

"Yes."

"Registration?"

"Yeah."

"Train tickets?"

"Mhm."

Isshin cut in with, "Change of underwear?"

"What," Ichigo stopped to glare at his dad, "No. Why would I need _underwear_? I'm not staying overnight."

Isshin rubbed his chin and said, "The questions might be so hard you pee yourself a little when you see them."

Ichigo kicked his dad in the stomach. The man obligingly hurtled across the kitchen and crashed into the garbage bin, where he belonged.

Karin tilted her head from the sofa where she had carefully arranged her limbs for maximum teenage laziness and drawled, "You never know. You might feel so ashamed after the test that you decide to wander the earth instead of showing your face again back home."

"I don't wanna hear that from someone who still needs my help to conjugate basic verbs in English," Ichigo sniped back.

Yuzu, ever the peacemaker, threw her arms around his middle and gave him a tight squeeze. "Don't worry, Ichi-nii, you're going to do great, I know it!"

Ichigo smiled as he lifted a hand and ruffled Yuzu's hair. He might still grow another centimeter or two, but his little sisters were shooting up like weeds. The gap in their heights was finally shrinking instead of growing with every passing year. Yuzu came up to his ribs now, and Karin might even be a hair taller. Of course, Goat Face – who had finally extricated himself from the garbage and was making his way back over to them – was the only one who hadn't changed an iota.

"Pass or fail, give it all you got and don't leave any regrets!" Isshin said, clapping him on the shoulder.

Karin added, "Besides, I'm sure Orihime will still support you even if you bomb the exam and end up a jobless bum."

"Don't say that," Yuzu chided, "Our big brother is going to be a smart and cool English professor in Tokyo!"

Karin just smirked at him and Ichigo pointedly made a face at her over Yuzu's shoulder. Then he jerked his thumb at one of the wandering ghosts that constantly lingered around the Kurosaki Clinic – this one was a balding man in a Hawaiian shirt – and said, "Think you can hold down the fort while I'm gone?"

"Aye-aye, captain," said Karin as she gave him a floppy two-fingered salute and rolled over to continue watching the television.

He turned to Yuzu and said, "Call me if anything comes up, okay? I won't be able to check my texts until after the exam, but if you call, I'll know it's important."

Yuzu poked him pointedly in the tummy and scolded, "No! Turn your phone off and focus on the test! What if a telemarketer calls and you get in trouble for checking your phone?"

"Then at least call Chad, or even four-eyes–"

"I-chi-go," Yuzu began pushing him ineffectually towards the door with her kitten-like strength. "You're being a worrywart again. Go, or else you'll miss your train!"

"Fine, fine," Ichigo laughed and allowed his little sister to shove him out the front doors of the clinic. The doors swung shut behind him, leaving him standing on the other side of the glass. He glanced back inside and saw his father and Yuzu share a meaningful look before they both broke into a synchronized cheerleader fist pump. Despite the glass being thin enough to hear them through, Dad and Yuzu still chose to mouth the words instead of shouting them, looking for all the world like excited goldfish as they pantomimed, "Fight! On! I-chi-go! Fight! On! I-chi-go!"

Ichigo could only shake his head and laugh. He gave them a thumbs up and a wave before jogging down the street towards the rail station.

Once he turned the corner and his house was out of sight, his bag started writhing. A padded yellow lion paw squirmed its way through the gap in the zipper to fully unzip it. Kon burst out of the bag, making a dramatic show of gasping for air he didn't need.

"Oi, stop that, someone might see you," Ichigo groused, shoving Kon's head back into the bag unceremoniously.

Undeterred, Kon popped back out and crooned, "But we're going to Tokyo! _Tokyo_! Big-chested big city beauties are waiting for me!"

"Try it," Ichigo threatened, "and you're going into the wash with that patchouli detergent again."

There was a small, scandalized gasp.

"You _wouldn't_." The mod soul managed to look nervous despite his crudely stitched snout and plastic bead eyes.

Ichigo just raised an eyebrow at Kon and let the silence drag on. Kon fidgeted a bit, then made a snooty and offended ' _hmph'_ before scrunching himself back down into the bag. Ichigo zipped it shut once again, but remembering how long the train ride into Tokyo proper was going to be, reluctantly pulled the zipper back open a quarter of the way so that Kon could at least peek outside from time to time. He could feel Kon squirming inside the bag to press a beady eye against the opened seam.

"Why am I bringing you along again?" Ichigo murmured, more to himself than to the stuffed lion.

Muffled through the bag, Kon said, "Because if anything happens, you're useless without me in your flimsy human body."

"Nothing's going to happen," said Ichigo. He winced as soon as the words left his lips, because with his luck, tempting fate like that was almost a guarantee that something would happen.

Ichigo glanced warily up at the sky. Fortunately, there was no ominous darkening of the clouds, no distant rumble of thunder, and most importantly, no crack in the sky that was about to sick an entire horde of hollows on top of him. It seemed the universe had let him slide, at least this one time.

"Right. Let's go. If we miss the train, you're the one who's gonna have to run in this flimsy human body until we catch up to it," Ichigo said.

Kon made a muffled cry of protest, and Ichigo broke into a steady jog towards the old Karakura rail station. The whole way there, the sky remained bright and clear, nary a hollow in sight. Karakura was as safe as safe could be, and Tokyo was probably packed to the gills with shinigami anyway, given how dense the population of the inner city was. The unsettled feeling in his stomach was probably just an early onset of exam nerves.

Ichigo still picked up the pace and broke into a run, as if pouring on speed would help him leave his troubled thoughts behind.

. . .

Rukia couldn't help but trace the embossed kanji and the delicately engraved petals of the snowdrop flower for the umpteenth time. The texture of the smoothly polished wood under her fingertips was real. It wasn't a dream. Captain Ukitake had really handed her the lieutenant's badge of their division and stated that it now belonged to her.

' _Consider it a promise_ ,' her captain had told her, ' _I will not go back on my decision._ '

Jumping straight from unseated officer to lieutenant was nearly unheard of. Even most of the captains had spent at least a few years in seated positions before attaining higher ranks. Not that Rukia dared to put herself on their level, of course; she had languished as an unseated officer for nearly half a century now, long enough for any other shinigami to accept that their career had stalled.

Holding solid proof that her efforts had not been in vain, that her captain had seen what she could do and validated all of her hard work, well – it was overwhelming. Rukia had to swallow the lump in her throat and blink a few times to offset the sudden burning sensation in her eyes.

She was _not_ going to cry over a badge. Not even a badge that had once adorned the arm of the person she most admired, dammit all.

It turned out to be a very good thing she hadn't burst into tears, because Third Seat Kotetsu burst into the barracks a split second later, and Rukia might have yelped if she hadn't been too busy fumbling to catch the badge she'd nearly dropped in her surprise.

"Rukia! We got a distress call from the living world," said Kiyone.

Rukia blinked dumbly, wondering why Kiyone was reporting this to her of all people. Then she realized that with Captain Ukitake otherwise occupied, Rukia was now the highest-ranking officer present. Or, she would be, when she was formally invested with her rank during the lieutenant's meeting at the end of the month. Her skills had already become common knowledge within the division; she was dispatched on missions for seated officers, and she was exempted from the basic kidou and zanjutsu drills of the rest of the unseated shinigami. The rest of the seated officers had stopped giving her orders once her impending promotion had become something of an open secret.

"Ah, um," Rukia scrambled to marshal her words into something resembling coherence. She cleared her throat and said in a steadier tone, "Level and location?"

"District 3600, a red level alert. Then again, it's Kurumadani, and he always exaggerates his reports, so it's probably nothing serious," Kiyone reported, but Rukia heard nothing beyond the district number.

District 3600 was Karakura Town. A town with enough skilled defenders that it should've been impervious to anything less than a full-scale invasion of menos. Kurosaki Ichigo alone could probably stand toe-to-toe with any lieutenant-class shinigami. Before she knew it, Rukia found herself already halfway across the Division grounds, Sode no Shirayuki at her hip despite having no memory of grabbing her zanpakuto from its stand. Kiyone appeared next to her in a hastily executed flash step, slightly out of breath from the effort of catching up to Rukia's whirlwind exit.

"Relax, Rukia," Kiyone huffed, "Sixth Seat Kajomaru's squad is on standby, I can have him go check it out just in case—"

"No, I'll go," Rukia snapped, more harshly than she intended. Even Kiyone seemed rather taken aback. Rukia bit her lip and consciously reigned herself in, "Sorry, I just…I have a bad feeling about this one. Could you update Captain Ukitake on the situation when he gets back?"

Kiyone simply nodded and sprinted off to sort out the logistics of having their prospective lieutenant tear off to the living world without so much of a by-your-leave. For all their silliness, Kiyone and Sentaro had kept the Thirteenth up and running for the last decade despite the complete lack of a second seat officer and a frequent lack of a captain as well. Rukia would have to make it up to them when she got back.

Rukia took a steadying breath. Her feet carried her swiftly and surely to the Thirteenth Division's Senkaimon. The guards were taken aback by her unannounced appearance, especially with her zanpakuto already on her hip, but Rukia decided to pull rank for the very first time and declared herself as "Lieutenant Kuchiki, responding to the distress call from district 3600." She had, in her rush, kept a vice-like grip on the lieutenant's badge without ever properly putting in on. She did so now, slipping the band over her arm and tightening the strap.

The guards traded a nervous glance with each other, and then stepped aside to let her through without any more trouble.

Rukia stepped through the Senkaimon for the first time in nearly two years. Even the shock of the limiter being applied – she had forgotten that would happen – did nothing to deter her.

Hopefully, she would reach the world of the living only to discover that the danger had been vastly exaggerated, or that Ichigo and his friends had already intervened and resolved the situation. Ichigo would poke fun at her rushing over like a worried parent, and she would deny it vehemently and give him a good kick in the shins. Then they might have enough time to grab a juice box from a vending machine, reminisce a little about old times, before Rukia could return and report that the situation had been handled, no need for any additional follow-up.

It was an enticing daydream.

A daydream that evaporated like so much mist when Rukia stepped into the world of the living and heard the screams.

. . .

Ichigo heard his phone buzz with a text notification about five minutes before the end on his exam. Despite being in silent-mode, the sound of a vibrating phone was both loud and distinctive in the utterly silent classroom. The exam proctor fixed him with a disapproving glare from the front of the classroom. Ichigo ducked his head sheepishly and tried to refocus on checking his answers. He didn't think anyone would actually text him during the test, but it was just as likely that his friends thought he'd be done by now. At any rate, he could wait five minutes to see what it was about.

Except, to his horror, the sound of his phone vibrating was followed by the even louder ' _zzzzzzip'_ of his bag being opened.

Ichigo scrunched his eyes shut in denial, praying to any god in heaven who would listen that Kon had not, in fact, unzipped his bag from the inside. Then he cracked open his eyes and glanced down to find that his prayer had not been answered.

The exam proctor called out his seat number with a bark of disapproval and began making her way over to him. Several other examinees looked up from their tests for the source of the disturbance, too, at the sound of Ichigo's pencil rolling out of his numb fingers and clattering loudly against the linoleum floor.

Kon was holding Ichigo's flip phone open. The screen displayed a single text from Yuzu, who would never have risked distracting Ichigo during his test, not even to tell him the house was on fire.

The message was blank save for a single word in the subject line:

' _Help'_

. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the fluff, because the next stop on this train is suffering. Lots and lots of suffering. Please feel free to make wild guesses or yell at me in the reviews, because your feedback is the best antidote to my horrible tendency to procrastinate. 
> 
> I’m looking for a dedicated beta reader as well so I can stop kidnapping random friends to do my proofreading for me.
> 
> Yet another plug for the Seireitei, a bleach discord server full of fans and fanfiction writers alike! https://discord.gg/drgmaf8


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